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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2010 with funding from 
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http://www.archive.org/details/whittiergemsOOwhit 



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WHITTIER GEMS 



ILLUSTRATED BY 



LOUIS K. HARLvOW 





BOSTON 

SAMUEL E. CASSINO 

1889 






■Reprinted by Permission of Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 
Copyright, 1888, by S. E. Cassino. 



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SNOIV-BOUND. 

The old familiar sights of ours 

Took marvellous shapes ; strange domes ami towers 

Rose up -where sty or corn-crib stood, 

Or garden-wall, or belt of wood; 

A smooth white mound tJje brush-pile showed, 

^fenceless drift what once was road; 

The bridle-post an old man sat 

With loose-flung coat and high cocked hat ; 

The well-curb had a Clnnese roof; 

<iAnd even the long sweep, high aloof. 

In its slant splendor, seemed to tell 

Of Pisa's leaning miracle. 









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SEEKING OF THE WATERFALL. 

Fringing the stream, at every turn 
Sating low the -waving fronds of fern ; 
From stony cleft and mossy sod 
Pale asters sprang, and golden-rod. 

And still the -water sang the sweet. 
Glad song that stirred its gliding feet, 
^nd found in rock and root the keys 
Of its beguiling melodies. 



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THE LAST WALK IN AUTUMN. 


cAlong the river's summer walk. 


The withered tufts of asters nod; 


And trembles on its arid stalk 


The hoar plume of the golden-rod. 


And on a ground of sombre fir. 


And aitire-studded juniper. 


71}e silver birch its buds of purple shows. 


And scarlet berries tell where bloomed the 


sweet wild-rose ! 







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IN SCHOOL DAYS. 

Still sits the scbool-hoiise by the road, 
A ragged beggar sunning; 
Around it still the sumachs grow, 
And blackberry-vines are running. 

Within, the master's desk is seen. 
Deep scarred by raps official ; 
The warping floor, the battered ssats. 
The jack-hnife's carved initial ; 

The charcoal frescos on its wall ; 
Its door's worn sill, betraying 
The feet that, creeping slow to school. 
Went storming out to playing! 




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THE MERRIMACK. 



No bridge arched thy waters save that 

■where the trees 
Stretched their long arms above thee and 

hissed in the breeze : 
No sound save the lapse of the waves on 

tljy shores. 
The plunging of otters, the light dip of 

oars. 




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